


Traditional Remedy

by lamardeuse



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-17
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is enchanted. Arthur misses the obvious solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditional Remedy

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: None
> 
> Written for ras_elased's [Merlin/Arthur Kiss Meme.](http://ras-elased.livejournal.com/171086.html)

"Merlin, I order you to get up this instant," Arthur said in his most commanding tone. He might have known that would get him nowhere: his idiot manservant remained completely unconscious, only the slight rise and fall of his skinny chest indicating he was alive.

"Merlin, damn you," Arthur growled, stepping up to the stone dais on which Merlin lay and shaking him, to no effect. At that, a sharp, high-pitched cackle rent the air around him, and he spun round, drawing his sword.

The woman was a century if she was a day, with long, flowing hair so white it was nearly blinding. She laughed again and shook her head. "That is not the way to awaken him."

"Have you cast an enchantment on him?" Arthur demanded, advancing on her. "Release him immediately."

The witch rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed, then, with a careless flick of her hand, sent his sword flying from him. "I detest those pointy things," she muttered, "and you, I regret to say, are something of a disappointment."

Arthur looked forlornly after his sword, which had gone sailing off beyond the edge of the mossy, sun-dappled glade and into the forest. "I beg your pardon?" he said, belatedly registering her words.

The old hag waved away his question. "The enchantment is a powerful one, but simple to break. Emrys can only be awakened by a man, not by a prince."

Arthur's mouth opened, then closed. That seemed a rather idiotic spell, really. Would he have to set off for the nearest village and drag a peasant back here? It didn't make any –

The witch waggled her eyebrows in a way that might – if Arthur were not horrified by the prospect – be construed as lascivious.

"No," he breathed. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, for Circe's sake, it's not as though I'm asking you to sacrifice your virtue," the woman snapped impatiently. "Just give the boy a nice kiss, there's a good lad."

"I –" Arthur looked from Merlin to the witch and back again. He supposed he did need his manservant back. And it wasn't as though he hadn't thought about it once or twice, when Merlin leaned in close to help him out of his armour, his breath raising gooseflesh on Arthur's sweat-damp skin, or handed him his towel after a bath, gaze averted, thick lashes fanning across rosy cheeks. "Are you going to be standing there and watching, then?"

The witch grinned, revealing worn and cracked yellow teeth.

Arthur fisted his hands and placed them on his hips.

"Oh, very well, deprive a poor old woman of her only source of entertainment, see if I give a toss," she said, snapping her fingers and disappearing in a huge puff of smoke.

Arthur stared at Merlin for a few moments, frozen to the spot, then silently cursed himself for an unseemly display of cowardice and strode up to the dais again. He gave Merlin one last shake, but the twat remained unresponsive.

"Well," Arthur said aloud, more heartily than the situation called for, "best get it over." He leaned down and, without thinking a great deal about it, pressed his mouth firmly to Merlin's for a count of three – yes, that ought to be sufficient – and immediately straightened again.

He studied Merlin for any sign of awakening, but there was none. "You lied!" Arthur shouted. "I kissed him, yet the spell remains unbroken!"

"Perhaps the problem lies with your technique!" the old hag shouted back; Arthur spun in a circle, but she was nowhere to be found. "Try again!"

"Oh, for –" Arthur gusted, turning back to Merlin. There was nothing wrong with his technique; he'd snogged _tons_ of people and had never had a single complaint. Of course, if there had been anything to complain about, he supposed they wouldn't have told him. Merlin would, though; he was forever complaining about his workload, about the state of the world, about everything, really. It was completely baffling that Arthur still put up with his rebellious ways after all this time. But then, it made no sense that Arthur's pulse raced as though he were on the hunt whenever he said something he knew was guaranteed to wind Merlin up, whenever Merlin got that amused twinkle in his eye that said _I know who you are_, or whenever his hands lingered on Arthur's body when preparing him for battle, as though he could keep him safe with a touch, an invisible favour for Arthur to carry under his mail.

Merlin was the first person to have seen through the armour and the bluster to the man inside the prince; it seemed only fitting that the man should be the one to save him.

Arthur leaned down again and whispered softly in Merlin's ear. "Merlin, wake up. Please." He raised his head slightly, trailing his lips over Merlin's pale cheek and chin before finally fitting his mouth to Merlin's.

He was shocked by the incredible warmth and lushness of Merlin's lips, like ripe plums caressed by summer sun, and he delved deeper, helplessly seeking a headier taste. His hand rose to cup Merlin's cheek, to angle him more as he liked, and it was then that Merlin sucked in a startled breath and jerked under him. It required all of his considerable restraint to ease away from him, though even then he could only manage to withdraw a few scant inches. This close, Merlin's eyes were huge in his face, and his mouth was an alarming shade of bruised pink.

Merlin raised a shaking hand to his lips. "I – you –"

"You were under a spell," Arthur murmured. "I had to –"

Merlin frowned, then turned his head this way and that, taking in the stone upon which he lay and the glade surrounding them. "Oh, right," he said weakly, "erm, sorry about that."

"No, it was fine," Arthur said hastily, then cleared his throat when Merlin's gaze rose to his, frankly speculative. "I mean, least I could do, considering you've drunk poison for me."

"Right," Merlin drawled, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I can see how it would be comparable."

"Oh, don't be silly, that's not what I meant and you know it," Arthur snapped, and knew he'd been had when Merlin grinned up at him slyly. Arthur's heart leapt in his chest like a startled elk. "Well, get up. I don't pay you to lay about all day."

Still smirking, Merlin swung his legs over the side of the dais and hopped to the ground. He took a step forward, and then his eyes widened and he wobbled dangerously. Muttering a soft oath, Arthur seized him by the shoulders before he could fall over.

"What's the matter?" Arthur demanded. He suspected his tone was more worried than stern, but he didn't much care.

Merlin's hand splayed over Arthur's chest, steadying himself further. "Sat up too quickly, I suppose," he murmured. His blue eyes rose to Arthur's face and their gazes locked.

"Perhaps," Arthur managed, swallowing before continuing, "perhaps you are still a little enchanted."

Merlin cocked his head slightly. "Perhaps," he agreed. The hand on Arthur's chest slid upward slowly, and Arthur leaned toward Merlin as though he were the one under the spell.

As he kissed Merlin once more, this time with Merlin's enthusiastic participation, he thought he heard a woman's voice say, "Now _that's_ more like it!" Oh yes, the witch; he really should recover his sword and go after her; his duty to Camelot demanded it.

And then Merlin's fingers threaded into his hair, and Arthur decided she deserved clemency.

Merlin groaned and did something truly wonderful with his tongue.

And hell, thought Arthur as he pulled Merlin closer, possibly a reward.


End file.
